


offer me that deathless death

by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, Safeword Use, Undernegotiated Kink, dom uses safeword, local couple tries bdsm when only one party wants it: it goes about as well as you'd think, not an antikink fic just a fic about how some kinks arent for every couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 06:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcrusader/pseuds/batofgoodintent
Summary: Tim wants to try something new in bed.Kon probably should've said no ahead of time, once he realized it didn't appeal to him at all.It goes about as well as you'd expect.





	offer me that deathless death

“More, _please_ ,” Tim said, voice catching on the ‘o’ in more as he bent over in front of Kon, back facing the super-powered clone. And that falter in the o got to Kon like nothing else, rattling around his mind until he could hear it, and only it.

It got under his skin, and made heat rush to his face.

But not in the way it was supposed to.

Hot shame filled his cheeks, and Kon’s stomach felt like it had gone into knots.

Because this? This was supposed to be something _mutual_. Sex, an equal sharing of power, of pleasure, of patience and giving. This was supposed to feel good.

Even with this, with Tim’s new kink, this was supposed to be something they both wanted.

Kon was supposed to rear back and feel a fire in his belly every time he pressed his hands into Tim’s back and hurt him. Except, he wasn’t supposed to think of it as ‘hurting’ Tim, according to every resource he saw online. He was supposed to think of it as giving Tim pleasure through the use of excess pressure. As if all pain wasn’t just excess pressure.

And, from a logical standpoint, from Tim’s suggestions and instructions, Kon was supposed to be desensitizing Tim to violence and pain.

It was supposed to work flawlessly, without a hitch Kon was supposed to hit Tim with his TTK. To give him specific, painful, full-body hits that would simulate falling from something high up. To knock the wind out of him—to make him feel like he was being punched, kicked, anything except made love to.

It was supposed to feel good, Tim had insisted. And it was supposed to help Kon ‘let loose’ and get some of his ‘deeper, underlying rage’ out.

Kon probably should’ve been offended at the idea that he needed to hurt his boyfriend in order to let out tension. As if he didn’t know what a gym was—as if he didn’t routinely go on equator-long trips to sort his head out when he was feeling things he didn’t want to feel.

So yeah, okay, it didn’t feel like pleasure from Kon’s end.

But Kon could deal with that. He’d had plenty of not-so-great sex before. He’d had sex with adults when he was still a minor, which wasn’t exactly something to brag about—but the point was, he didn’t really care if sex wasn’t always great. Hell, he didn’t even care that much if he got hurt during it. He’d dated Knockout, after all, and lived to tell the tale, even if it didn’t exactly set him up for the healthiest of relationships.

No, the issue was that he knew Tim almost as well as he knew himself. And it didn’t feel like he was giving Tim pleasure, either, even though it was Tim who’d asked for this.

He knew what Tim’s heart rate sounded like when he was feeling excited, or horny. And he knew what it sounded like when Tim was scared.

And Tim’s heart sounded scared, no matter what words were coming out of Tim’s mouth.

Like, okay— _no_ , Tim hadn’t said any safe words. And okay, Kon didn’t know if he was allowed to stop before Tim did. The worst of it was that Kon didn’t actually _know_ if Tim would be angry with him if he couldn’t do this one simple thing for him—if Kon couldn’t manage to give him the sort of sex that he’d asked for.

The thing was, though, that Kon wasn’t sure he could do this.

It had gone well the first few tries. Or, as well as it could, when Kon was hesitant and didn’t actually want this. But after being told to stop going easy on him, Kon had settled into a rhythm and strength that Tim had approved of, given how vocal he was about thanking Kon.

But no matter how much Kon tried to get used to it, he couldn’t.

By the seventh try, Kon’s hands had actually started to shake, body rejecting the idea of hurting Tim again.

Even at Tim’s next insistence—“Kon, _more_ , baby, please…”—he still couldn’t do it. He tried to pass it off as building anticipation, tried to distract Tim with other gestures, like kisses and tiny bites to his shoulder. But there was no getting around how his body physically refused to cooperate.

It wasn’t until Tim had asked a third time that Kon realized just how badly he’d started to shake. And, worse, that he was starting to tear up.

His throat suddenly had a lump, and his lungs felt like they might seize up at any moment.

“Kon,” Tim said, voice sounding more clinical than it had before—more scientific, more pointed. “Kon. Pause. You remember our safe-words?”

“Pause for taking a break, stop for a total and complete stop,” Kon said. It had been a super easy selection, because Kon couldn’t even think of having to choose words that weren’t obvious. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to hurt Tim and ignore his boyfriend if Tim ever said anything to indicate that he didn’t want to keep going.

After Kon had answered, Tim nodded, then turned over in place so that he was actually facing Kon.

His heart-rate had calmed some, Kon noticed, immediately relieved at the realization. But that relief died as soon as Kon realized that Tim could see his face, and his hands.

And he knew that the gig was up.

Tim took hold of Kon’s hands, then guided Kon’s hands to his face, the larger ones easily framing Tim’s sharp cheeks. It felt good—genuinely _good_ —to feel something so delicate in his hands and know that Tim still trusted him not to break his face, even after what Kon had been made to do.

But before Kon could feel too grateful, Tim opened his mouth to speak again, but this time, his voice was soft. Still deliberate, but consoling. “And you know they’re for you, too?” he asked quietly. “You can tell me to stop, Kon. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

The thought hadn’t, believe it or not, actually occurred to Kon.

Maybe he’d realized he didn’t want to do this, but the idea of stopping Tim, or stopping himself, was something foreign.

Kon wondered if it made him a bad person, for not realizing that he was allowed to stop. He wondered if this was a test, of whether or not his loyalty to Tim could outweigh his conscience. And from the looks of it, it had.

He’d hurt Tim, and he hadn’t even tried to stop himself.

What kind of a boyfriend was he?

Tears spilled out of Kon’s eyes in an instant, and he found himself choking up worse than before. Without even thinking about it, he sat up and pulled his boyfriend into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around him—though not tightly enough to hurt him. Not now, not ever again.

Tim seemed a little surprised at the sudden and intense affection, but not enough to pull away.

Instead, Tim just rubbed Kon’s back and rested his cheek against Kon’s broad shoulder. “I’m okay, Kon,” he said softly. “We don’t have to do it again.”

But as soothing as it was to hold Tim close and not worry about hurting him, Kon needed to talk himself through it. Or, more likely, to talk about it and have Tim figure out what he was feeling from the breadcrumbs of sense Kon could make of his own mind, because Kon wasn’t always the best at interpreting his own head.

That’s why he needed Tim, and loved Tim. And why he’d never want to hurt him.

Kon took a deep breath, then finally felt up to talking.

“I …don’t want to hurt you,” he managed. At Tim’s reassuring hum, it felt safe to continue. So he pressed his lips to Tim’s hair, and tried to force out the rest of the words sitting on the surface.  “I see you hurt out there fighting all the time already, plus, I—Luthor took hold of my mind and almost made me kill you, he had me _break your arm_.” His breaths came out in shuddery, rapid succession. “I don’t want to do this. I _never_ —I don’t want to be someone who hurts you, ever. I’m sorry. I should’ve, I should’ve been able to do this for you, but I can’t.”

“Oh, Kon…”

Kon knew that tone, but he didn’t want to face it just yet. So he pressed his face into Tim’s shoulder and just tried to hide there for now.

Tim got the gist of it, and sighed before running a hand softly through his hair. “Hey,” he said. “There’s nothing you have to apologize for, except for telling me that you were okay with going through with this when you weren’t.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“But you didn’t tell the truth, either.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. And everyone’s fucking doing it, I just—I thought I…”

“Kon.” This time, Tim didn’t allow him to hide, and instead coaxed Tim out from his shoulder. “Look at me, babe. Hey.”

Kon finally let his gaze settle on his boyfriend.

“You don’t ever, _ever_ have to do something with me just because I ask. Especially something like this. I should’ve realized you weren’t all that interested. I got so caught up in thinking it could desensitize me to pain that I didn’t even stop to think how you’d feel about doing that to me.” Tim reached forward to cup Kon’s cheek. “And I’m the one who needs to say sorry for putting you in a position like that.”

“Don’t… don’t apologize,” Kon said, taking a deep breath. He made a move to wipe away the last of his tears, but Tim beat him to it, brushing them away with his thumbs. “It’s okay. I should’ve said something. We both fucked up a little, but it’s okay. I’m just really glad it’s over.”

Tim’s expression was conflicted for a moment, but finally he nodded. Then, he used his leverage on Kon’s face to pull him in for a kiss, making it chaste and sweet. “It’s over,” he confirmed. “Now, let’s do something to get your mind off of it.”

“Aside from sex?”

“Aside from sex,” Tim confirmed. Then, wrinkling his nose, “Obviously.”

“I’m honestly just kind of burned out right now,” Kon said. “Video games or something would be fine.”

Tim nodded, then ran a hand softly through his boyfriend’s hair. “Okay. Anything to eat?” he asked, because he knew Kon, too, and knew that sometimes after stressful events, Kon wanted to eat half his weight in Southern comfort food, and that nothing got in-between him and cornbread.

But then, nothing like this had quite happened before, either. So Tim wasn’t entirely surprised when Kon shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m, uh, not really feeling up to eating. I just kinda wanna cuddle you and play something until I forget about all this.”

Something in Tim’s face looked sad, but he didn’t argue Kon’s decision. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. We can do that.”

Kon made a move to get up, but before he did, Tim took hold of his face again.

“I love you,” Tim said softly. “I’m sorry I put you through this tonight. But I love you, and I’m sorry I tried something with you that you didn’t want.”

Those few words always sent Kon’s heart fluttering, rare as they were. It was all too easy to forgive Tim, so he simply took hold of his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles—like Tim was a prince, rather than a Red Robin.

“Love you, too,” he said simply. “Now, I’m gonna kick your ass for real in Mario Kart.”

Tim laughed, then pressed a kiss against Kon’s brow. “You’re on.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> not kinkbashing, just reiterating the fact that not every kink is for everyone. this is the part where healthy couples realize that just because something sounds fun to try out doesnt mean that itll work out well.


End file.
